The Eleventy Fifth Hour
by NHPW
Summary: All life is sacred, and so it came to pass that a very pregnant Delenn ventured eleventy-five hours from home to rescue an old friend and attempt to heal open wounds. And while they were there, the time came for the baby to be born... Complete 7/8/10.
1. Chapter 1: D Minus 16 Hours

**Disclaimer: **John Sheridan, David Sheridan, Delenn, Dr. Stephen Franklin, Lennier, Tannier, and pretty much everything else in this story belong to J. Michael Straczynski. I made up Lathann, but made-up Rangers are a dime a dozen. No copyright infringement is intended, but I think I've decided that if JMS wants to sue me and use the money to fund a B5 feature film, that'd be fine.

**Author's Note:** This was going to be a Mother's Day story – and failed. Then it was going to be a Father's Day story – again, fail. Now it is just an everyday story about an everyday event, because people have babies all the time. However, I'm a firm believer that there's nothing "everyday" about John and Delenn's lives, including the birth of their son. They're an extraordinary couple… so their son is getting an extraordinary entry into the world. Tissue warning, probably.

**The Eleventy-Fifth Hour**

Chapter 1 – D-Minus 16 hours

"_Many are stubborn in pursuit of the path they have chosen; few in pursuit of the goal." – Fredrich Nietzsche_

"Entil'zha Delenn. Can I bring you anything?"

Delenn looked toward the door to her quarters on board the White Star and smiled at the Ranger who stood there. He was young, perhaps the youngest Minbari among the Anla'shok, and she knew his name as she knew all of her Rangers. His eyes were lowered slightly, and it made her think briefly and painfully of Lennier and his first days with her, when he had refused to meet her gaze as he felt it was disrespectful. But this was not Lennier. This was Lathann of the Family Enfil, hand-picked to travel with her on this mission because she knew that if she asked him not to mention the mission to John, he would do as she asked. "A nice… big… tall glass of water, if you wouldn't mind, Lathann," Delenn responded, pausing as she kicked off her shoes and put her feet up. The room was minimally decorated, as was the Minbari way, but she had requested this particular chair and footrest be brought aboard for her own comfort. "And… some Gal'sha." She paused to think, and Lathann began to exit the room. "And –"she held up her finger, and he stopped. "Is there any se n'kai left?"

"Yes, Entil'zha."

"The rest of those, then. Peeled." She made a face at the thought of eating the peel of this fruit. It made her stomach turn. "_Definitely_ peeled."

Lathann nodded. "As you wish, Entil'zha. Anything else?"

She paused to consider. "No, that will be all for now. Thank you, Lathann. You have been most helpful."

The young Minbari bowed as he exited, leaving Delenn alone.

Well, almost.

A slow smile crept across her face and she folded her hands over her swollen belly as she felt the life inside her begin to shift and kick. "You are awake, little one," she said softly. A sharper kick, or maybe a punch – she couldn't tell where his feet were anymore. "Yes, yes. Lathann is bringing us a snack. And don't worry. This mission is over, and we are headed home. There is nothing for us to do now but rest." She ran her hands over her stomach absently. She had found in the course of her pregnancy that this gesture was oddly relaxing. "Your father would be most cross if he knew what we have been up to while he was away. So. I have sworn the crew and Lathann to secrecy, and that just leaves the two of us. I expect you will not mention anything?" More movement and another kick. She chuckled. "Good. You are learning early to listen to your mother." She groaned and shifted onto her side, allowing her eyes to drift closed.

**

* * *

**

Interstellar Alliance President John Sheridan strolled off the White Star that had been his home for the past week and a half, rubbing at his face. He felt awful. He hadn't been able to reach Delenn for the past three days, likely due to the distortions of hyperspace, and he was worried about her. He hadn't slept well since leaving home and, he noted as his hand scraped over sandpaper skin on his cheek, apparently he'd also forgotten to shave for a couple of days. On top of that, he was jet lagged. What time was it on Minbar? He had no idea. It was dusk…ish… He shook his head - he was still on Narn time.

But none of that mattered. He smiled in spite of it all as he strolled toward his and Delenn's home, a quiet utopia off the back of Interstellar Alliance Headquarters. The treaty negotiations and humanitarian effort he'd been to Narn to oversee had taken less time than expected, and he was home a day early.

The first indication that anything was amiss was the look he got from Ranger Tannier, who was guarding the front entrance to their home. "Tannier?" He questioned. "Something wrong?"

The Minbari Ranger averted his eyes and moved to stand in front of the door. "You're home early, sir."

"Yes, and if it's all the same to you, I'm exhausted. I would like to go inside, have a shower, and then sleep for about ten light years. And," he added, raising a finger, "I miss my wife, who will no doubt be _very_ glad to have me home early so that I can resume my position as her personal slave. Now. If you don't mind…" He stepped forward, and Tannier grudgingly moved aside to allow him to punch in the access code.

"Sir, there's something I should really…"

John moved past Tannier and stepped into the kitchen. His home was oddly dark and quiet. _Delenn_ _must_ _be_ _asleep_, he thought to himself. _Perfect… nobody needs to twist my arm to get me to join her._

But the bedroom was empty, and it was as he turned away from the door that he noticed Tannier had followed him inside. "She's not here," the Ranger admitted now.

"Yes, I can see that. When did she step out? Any idea when she'll return?"

"Yes, sir. Well. You see, sir…"

John narrowed his eyes. "Out with it, Ranger Tannier." He wasn't a military man any longer, but his commanding-officer-no-nonsense tone was ingrained on his psyche and he still took advantage of it to assert authority. "What is going on?"

"Entil'zha Delenn is… she took one of the White Star fleet, you see, and…"

"She. Did. _What_?" John wheeled on the Ranger now, his face red with frustration.

"She thought she'd be back long before you," Tannier explained hastily. "And… she was rather adamant, Sir. There was no talking her out of it."

"Well did you even try?"

"Yes, Sir, you see she—"

John shook his head and began to pace the hall. "For God's sake, Tannier, have you _looked_ at her recently? As remarkable as it might be to be the parents of the first child born in hyperspace, I think our lives are exciting enough already. Besides, I… I would very much like to be there." John sighed heavily and softened as he took note of Tannier's expression. "But… I know as well as anyone how stubborn she can be when she has put her mind to something… all right. Where did she go, and when will she be back?"

"She took Ranger Lathann and the crew of White Star 7 into Centauri space three days ago to answer a distress call," Tannier imparted.

"Well, that would explain why I haven't been able to reach her here. What was the nature of the distress call?"

"It was of Minbari origin, and it came directly to your quarters… sir."

"Minbari? A… stranded cruiser? A White Star? What?"

Tannier looked away. "I think you should call Entil'zha Delenn," he said quietly.

"Believe me, she is next on my list. But I want answers. Delenn has been uncomfortable, swollen and sleep-deprived for the past month, and in the two weeks before I left for Narn, she seemed perfectly content to nest and let me wait on her hand and foot. Now, what could have possibly happened that would bring her not only out of our quarters but off-world, in a White Star, into Centauri space with only one _very_ green Ranger and a skeleton crew?"

"The signal came from a solo Minbari flyer," Tannier responded. He was carefully studying the floor as he spoke.

"A solo flyer, all alone in Centauri space? Must've taken a wrong turn somewhere. Who was the pilot?"

There was a long, agonizing pause. Finally, Tannier – not because he _wanted_ to squeal, but because he was Minbari, and Minbari do not lie – replied in a barely audible tone, "Lennier, of the Third Fane of Chudomo."

John took inventory of his emotions as the name of Delenn's former attaché was spoken in his home. Anger? Resentment? Yes. Guilt? No, not guilt. Pain? Sadness? Definitely. "Lennier," he breathed, and the memory came flooding back: The flight to Minbar from Babylon 5; his restlessness and midnight walk; the reactor leak; Lennier's moment of betrayal that had nearly cost John his life. He had fled after that, and except for one brief transmission to Delenn just after he ran, they hadn't seen nor heard from him since.

"Are you… OK, Mr. President?" Tannier reached out an arm as he took note of Sheridan's face. All the color had drained from it; Tannier had learned that for humans, this was a most troubling sign. He thought perhaps Sheridan might faint.

After a pause, Sheridan met Tannier's eyes and nodded. "Get me an open channel to White Star 7, Priority One."

"Right away Sir." Tannier nodded and turned to exit the First Couple's bedroom, throwing one last worried look over his shoulder before he departed.

Alone, Sheridan leaned against the wall and lifted his eyes skyward. "Fine, you got me. I don't care that she went. I don't care about Lennier," he told whatever deity might be listening. "Just bring her back to me safe and sound. I think you owe me that much, huh?" There was no response, of course. He nodded, though, as if forming an understanding with the universe, and pushed himself off the wall, walking out the bedroom with purpose.

Delenn's face filled the Com screen by the time he reached his office. "Delenn, what the—"

"You're home early." There wasn't a touch of worry or guilt in her voice – nothing but love, and it melted John's anger in an instant. "As you so precisely say… I am busted."

"Busted," John agreed with a nod. "What you did was dangerous, Delenn."

Delenn evaded this comment. "I suspect Tannier has filled you in on all the details."

"All of them except the most important one. Why, Delenn? You were taking a _huge_ risk!"

"The doctors assured me last week that I am still at least three weeks from giving birth. And now the danger has nearly passed, and I am on my way home," she returned.

The anger was beginning to boil in his blood again, slowly but surely. "You didn't answer my question."

Delenn set her face, brow creased slightly, with a fire in her eyes that left no room for argument. "Because in spite of what happened six months ago, John, Lennier is my friend, and he remains a trained member of the Anla'shok under my command. His engines had malfunctioned and he was stranded in Centauri space, which may or may not have been a safe place to be, and I was the only one he felt he could contact for help. If you had been home, I would still have gone."

"But then—then I could have gone with you! I could be there to take care of you, to ensure your safety, to—to be there in case… in case the baby decides now is a good time to make his grand entrance."

"I have been talking with him at some length. We have both agreed that this would not be a very wise decision."

It unnerved John to no end how calm Delenn was about the situation. He wanted to fight. He wanted to yell, to scream, to tell her she shouldn't have gone… but she was holding his gaze and despite the clenching and unclenching motion he was making with his fists… he couldn't be angry with her when she looked at him like that. He took a moment, a couple of deep breaths, to compose himself before asking, "How far are you from home?"

"Two jumps," she responded. He watched as she looked down at her belly and knew, though he couldn't see her hands, that she was caressing it. _I should be there to do that,_ he thought. _I _miss _doing that._ "Another eleventy-five hours, and then I, and our child, will be back home, where you can dote on us as much as you please."

John did some quick mental conversions. He hated the Minbari's base-eleven counting system. "All right, fine. But you rest," he instructed, giving her a slightly scolding wag of his finger.

"Yes, John. Of course, John," she patronized with a gentle laugh.

"I love you." The passion in his tone subdued her laughter.

"And I love you. I'll see you soon."

John took in her face a moment longer before ending the transmission. In the silence, he turned a slow circle in his office and wandered out to the main living area. Tannier had gone back to his post outside the door. The house was eerily quiet, and John couldn't think of anything to do. Since arriving on Minbar, his life had revolved only around his work and caring for his wife. Suddenly he had neither. He had… free time. And he couldn't think of any way to fill it but to sit down… and wait.


	2. Chapter 2: D Minus 13 Hours

Chapter 2 – D-Minus 13 Hours

"_One thing is necessary: to journey to wells." – Johannes Edfelt_

"_White Star 7 to Minbari Flyer. What is your status?"_

"_Minbari Flyer to White Star… as reported on my initial transmission, I seem to have had a malfunction with one of my main engines. I am unable to make jumps. Automatic navigation systems are down as well; I can only navigate manually."_

_There was a long pause. Then, "Stand by for grapple. We will bring you aboard and make repairs in our docking bay."_

"_Confirmed, White Star Seven. Awaiting grapple."_

Delenn sighed and slipped out of meditation for a moment. She had gotten her hopes up when Lennier had contacted her; she shouldn't have. She closed her eyes again, her mind and emotions awash with memories of the last few days.

"_The crew will attend to your ship. With the proper materials, it should be a simple repair. Meanwhile, I would like to talk to you, Lennier."_

_His eyes remained downcast as she handed him a cup of tea and the two sat down in her quarters. "You are… well, I trust?" He asked. She didn't miss it as he took a quick note of her expanded middle._

"_I have not slept well in two months. My ankles have swelled so that they no longer fit in my shoes. My skin has stretched to a degree I did not think possible to accommodate a mostly human child who may not be accepted by our people. And four weeks ago, my physician ordered that I was not to travel until I give birth. But… I am happy. I am loved."_

_Lennier nodded then, studying his tea. "You have disobeyed your doctor's orders to rescue me, then."_

"_I know that you would do the same for me, old friend."_

"_I do not know that that will ever be necessary." Lennier still had not lifted his eyes to meet hers. She reached out and forced him to raise his chin, and the look in his eyes broke her heart. So much guilt; so much sadness; and behind it all, veiled deep affection. "You have… someone else now."_

"_Lennier. When I married John, I did not cease to have a need for friends. Come home with me. Come back to Minbar, back to the Anla'shok."_

"_I am afraid that I cannot be what you want me to be."_

A tear escaped her right eye, again breaking her meditative state. She had turned away from him then, because in what he had said was the screaming silence of what was _not_ said: Lennier still loved her. He was sorry for his actions, for what he had nearly allowed to happen to John, but he could not move past his feelings enough to promise that, given another opportunity, he would not do the exact same thing.

She gave up on meditation and instead reached for the last se n'kai fruit on the plate next to her chair and bit into it slowly. Red juice trickled down her chin and she wiped it away with her empty left hand as the fruit dissolved on her tongue. Different memories came forward with the sweet nectar taste… she had first shared this fruit with John on their wedding night, on board the White Star as they made the trek from Earth back to Babylon 5, to begin their new life as a married couple and as the figureheads of the newly formed Interstellar Alliance. They had taken turns feeding each other the small round fruit, laughing and smiling and then licking the juice off of one another… tentatively at first, off of chins and cheeks and fingers… until he had sucked one of her fingers deep into his mouth and caressed it with his tongue, and then they were licking where there was no juice, or deliberately squeezing drops of it onto other, more intimate body parts… he had fed her one final fruit, following it up with a passionate kiss as he took her hand in his, moved his body over hers… and then the fruit had no longer mattered.

The se n'kai was a ceremonial fruit, which was why it had been present in their quarters that night, but she had developed a craving for it early in her pregnancy, and that was no doubt the reason it was on this ship, for this voyage. She had tried to share them with Lennier, to get some native Minbari food in him at least, before he headed off to the stars again… and he had refused.

"_The se n'kai is a major part of the Nafak'Cha," he said as he moved a hand to stop her, seeming to want to physically put more distance between himself and the small red spheres. "And the Nafak'Cha doubles as a commitment ceremony. I cannot eat this fruit with you, Delenn… as much as I… would very much like to."_

"_Without the proper prayers and meditation to complete the ceremony, it is just fruit, Lennier," she reasoned._

_He shook his head at her. "If it is all the same to you, I will seek out a meal with Ranger Lathann. Besides, you… should rest." He bowed respects to her as he exited her quarters, his familiar small, sad smile ever-present on his lips, and Delenn's heart cried for their dying friendship._

Now she finished off the last of the fruit and gave a long, exhausted stretch. "Your father has asked me to rest," she spoke into the near-darkness of her quarters. She again caressed her belly as her son continued his acrobatics inside her. "But you do not seem interested in rest, and I think that I am afraid of what awaits me in my dreams. So… I will talk to you. I will talk, until either you or I fall asleep… and then… if you fall asleep first… I think I may simply talk some more." She sighed. "I want to tell you a story about this voyage, and why it was necessary. I want to tell you what happened with Lennier… and why, despite what happened on board this ship, I still miss him so very, very much." And as she began her tale in a voice meant to calm them both, she tried to ignore the pains that rippled through her abdomen which she could no longer dismiss as simple punches and kicks.

* * *

Night had fallen on Minbar, but John – who had come home just three hours ago, exhausted to the point of passing out – couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned on the inclined bed, kicking off the covers only to reach for them a minute later. He knew Delenn was a strong and capable woman; it was one of the first things he'd fallen in love with about her. Everything she did, she did with fire and passion… but he sometimes wondered if she considered the risks she took.

_Do you?_

It was a tiny, nagging voice in the back of his mind, but try as he might, he could not push it away._ Do _you_ consider the risks?_ He'd done the math; Delenn had been pregnant – newly so, and delicately so – when he had sent her and Lennier on the mission to ask the Grey Council for more White Stars, more ships for Interstellar Alliance use. They had both nearly died in hyperspace on that mission after being fired upon by Centauri warships. _Yes, I considered the risks_, he told himself. _And I told her up front it was dangerous, and I didn't want to have to ask her to do it, but she was the only one who could…besides, I didn't know. I didn't know, God help me _I didn't know_, and if I had… I would've gone on that mission myself._

He ran a hand over her empty pillow. "I miss you," he sighed into the darkness. Then he pushed himself up off the bed and walked into the adjacent living area. He pushed a button on the recording device that had become a permanent fixture on their coffee table. "Begin recording," he said softly. He took a moment to compose his thoughts before continuing. "You're going to be born very soon," he said at last. "I have to admit… I'm scared. Your mother has taken a ship out to rescue someone who… someone whose jealousy nearly cost me my life."

"_Lennier, hit the access panel. Lennier? Lennier!"_

He swallowed rising anger at the memory flash. "And… if I know your mother, she's talking to you right now in her belly, telling you all the reasons she had to go. Well. Here's the God's honest truth: She's right. She is right more times than she is wrong, and it drives me crazy, but… you'll learn a lot from her. And what you and I both need to learn from this is… well, a couple of things, actually." He had been pacing around the room, but now he sat back on the couch, hands pushing down on his knees as he did so. "First, forgiveness. It's something I'm not great at. I can hold a grudge until the end of time if I'm of the mind to do so. But… your mother… has a capacity for forgiveness that I'm not sure I'll ever understand. I want to teach you _so many_ things, but one thing I don't want you to learn from me is how to hold a grudge. I want you to look to your mother instead, and learn a depth of forgiveness that is beyond human." He paused and scratched at his goatee. "Second… is the capacity to love. I love you. I love your mother. And your mother loves you, and she loves me… but she also loves Lennier. She'll never say it in quite that way, but… she does. Not in the same way she loves me… closer, probably, to the way she loves you. The thing about that, though, is… as I'm discovering… the love between mother and child trumps every other kind of love there is. And that's why I'm not angry with her; that's why I understand, although I hate to admit it, that she had to go out on this mission." John sighed, trying to decide what to say next. "Well. One thing is for certain: You will be a beneficiary of that kind of love from both of us. You already are." He smiled and switched off the recorder just as the Com unit in their family room began to buzz.

John looked at his watch and frowned. It wasn't the middle of the night, but it was late just the same. He padded through the darkness to stand closer to the monitor. "Receive."

"Mr. President."

John's frown deepened. "Ranger Lathann? Is… everything all right?"

The young Ranger looked away. "In calling you, I am breaking a promise to Entil'zha Delenn. But… you should know, Mr. President. I think… I think the baby… is coming now."


	3. Chapter 3: D Minus 12 Hours

Chapter 3 – D-Minus12 hours

"_Being happy doesn't mean everything is perfect. It means you've decided to look beyond the imperfections." – Anon._

Delenn took a long drink from her water glass and wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. She tilted her head back. "My son. We had an agreement." She was trying to keep her tone level and calm, but she was failing. For all that she had been through in her life, she could never remember feeling quite so alone, or quite so afraid.

She shifted onto her left side, which she found to be slightly less uncomfortable than laying on her back. What had her doctors said? Deep, regular breathing to stay calm during false labor. Because that's all this was. It wasn't real. It couldn't be.

As if in opposition to her theory, a strong contraction ripped through her, causing her to cry out and grasp her middle. "It appears," she gasped, "That you would be breaking that agreement, yes? And you thought your father was cross before. Just wait." She let out a long exhale as the pain passed, and then she closed her eyes. _What am I going to do now?_

The door to her quarters opened and Lathann appeared. Delenn had sworn him to secrecy when he'd come in an hour ago and found her doubled over with pain. She had made him swear in Valen's name, in God's name, in the name of all that is holy that he would not call John. But she knew two things as their eyes met: He had broken his promise, and he had been right in doing so. "President Sheridan is on hold for you now," he told her, an almost apologetic tone in his voice. He came forward and took her hand, and again she found herself thinking how much he reminded her of Lennier, in those early days, before… well, before. "Should I put him through?"

"Yes. Put him through." She took a deep breath, and then faced her husband on the Com screen with a weak smile and all the courage she could muster. "John."

"Delenn. I hear you're… not feeling so well."

She appreciated more than anything the fact that his tone, somehow, was quite calm and light. "I'm afraid not."

He nodded, and then his concern started to show through. But, Delenn noted as she studied his expression, there was no anger - only concern for her well being and maybe, just maybe, a hint of joy just under the surface. And then he smiled a little, and she knew she'd read him right. "Lathann says you're about twelve hours from home, right on schedule."

"I'm sorry, John… I don't know if I can wait that long."

"It's all right, Delenn. It's OK, just relax. Don't worry about that now. Besides." John gave her a shrug. "I'm home a day early. Even if you'd stayed here, I might well have missed it anyway, still en route from Narn. Don't you worry about me, all right?" He raised his eyebrows at her, and she gave him a weak nod in response. "I'm so happy." He was coaxing her to admit her own joy. It worked.

"We've waited so long for this day… it is a blessing, in the strangest of ways."

They spent a long, quiet moment just looking at each other before John broke the silence. "How far apart are your contractions?" He asked quietly.

Delenn kept her eyes locked with his. "Still irregular," she replied. "But strong."

"Well, see, you've got time then." His tone betrayed the confidence in his words. "I'm going to keep this channel open all night. If I can't be there, at least I can watch, right?"

"It will not be pretty." She frowned at him.

"I promised you for better or for worse. I intend to keep that promise." He rubbed his hands together absently and puffed out his cheeks with a helpless sigh. "_I love you_." He wrapped the words in passion, as though to give them enough strength to reach across hyperspace and straight to her heart. "Is there a doctor on board with you?"

She shook her head. "I'm so sorry," she said again.

"No. No apologies. We'll get through this, just like we've always gotten through everything. Listen… You… you just lie back and try to get some rest, OK? You'll need your strength in a little while." He gave her an encouraging smile, and Delenn could see the tears that glistened in his eyes. "Lathann will stay there with you, and you squeeze his hand if you need… and you… you close your eyes and imagine it's my hand." The words were painful, but they were necessary – she needed someone, and the truth was that it could not be him. "I'm going to call Stephen, see if we can't put the conference call feature on this darn thing through its paces." He took note of the look on her face. "It'll be OK, Delenn. We've been in tougher spots than this." He gave her one last encouraging smile and then moved closer to the monitor so that he could hit the command buttons and make a second call.

"Conference call mode initiated. Contact?"

John began to pace in front of the monitor, and then after a moment's thought, he temporarily muted Delenn's end of the conversation. He could watch her, and she could see him, but he wanted to keep his words to Stephen just between the two of them. "Contact Dr. Stephen Franklin, head of Xenobiology in Earthdome."

"Confirmed. Stand by."

**

* * *

**

In general, Dr. Stephen Franklin looked back on his time on Babylon 5 as the best years of his career. He'd learned more there about treating species other than his own than he could have anywhere else. He'd also learned a fair amount about himself, and he'd made some great friends. But there were two things he liked infinitely better about his current position: The change in seasons, and the ability to get a good night's sleep on a regular basis. So when an urgent call came through to his bedroom at 3 a.m., he was more than a little bit annoyed.

"John, you are a wonderful man. I love you and I have great respect for you, but have I ever told you that you have the _worst_ sense of timing I have _ever_—"

"Delenn's in labor, Stephen."

"Congratulations to you both." Franklin rubbed at his tired eyes. "But there's very little I can do from here. I'll come for a visit next week, bring you a pack of cigars—"

"She's not here with me," Sheridan interrupted. Franklin had known the Alliance president to be impatient on occasion, and apparently this was one such an occasion. "She's on board White Star 7, on her way back from Centauri space, about 12 hours out, with a skeleton crew and a newly initiated Minbari Ranger who by all accounts is scared out of his wits."

"What? What—what was she doing all the way out there?"

"It's a long, long story. Look, Stephen… bottom line is, we don't know where else to turn. Will you help my wife? Please?"

Any anger Franklin had felt toward his former CO for this inconvenient wake-up call faded as he took in the other man's tone and expression. It went without saying: That Minbari Ranger was scared, sure, but John was terrified. The future of his whole family might be on the line, and he was utterly helpless to stop it. "Put me on with her," he said with a nod. "Let's see just how far along she is."

John nodded. "I'll finish patching through the conference call." John paused, and in that moment, the doctor recognized a whole gambit of emotion in Sheridan's eyes. His heart went out to his old friend. "Thank you, Stephen." John pushed the last several buttons to complete the relay. He was pleased to see the feature worked, even with one of the participants in hyperspace.

The attention of the two men shifted back to Delenn, and they hadn't noticed, but during their conversation, Lathann had been moving about the chair in which Delenn reclined, lighting candles and whispering prayers. Now Delenn appeared quite relaxed, reclined with her feet elevated, eyes closed and breathing deeply.

"Delenn?" John questioned uncertainly.

"I am here." She didn't open her eyes; her mouth barely moved as she spoke. A loud exhale was audible to all observers.

"Stephen is here with us." John found that his wife's sudden relaxed mood evened out his own emotions, and he marveled at the role reversal; shouldn't _he_ be keeping _her_ calm?

"Hello, Stephen." In spite of it all, a small smile graced Delenn's features. She still did not open her eyes.

"Delenn," Dr. Franklin returned the greeting. "Are you comfortable?"

"As comfortable as one can be in such situations," came the reply. She moaned a bit and her meditative breathing was broken by a long, shuddering exhale.

"Good. Now…" Franklin scrutinized the candlelit projection of Delenn's surroundings. "Is someone there with you?"

"Lathann is here."

"I'd like to speak to both of you, please. Just for a moment."

Sheridan was grateful for Franklin's willingness to take control of the situation. For all that he wanted to do right now… he felt more helpless than he'd been in his entire life. He gave the doctor his full attention, and he noticed and appreciated that Delenn and Lathann had opened their eyes and done the same.

"I'm going to admit up front that I've never done anything quite like this before," the doctor began. "So I guess in that respect, we're all on an even plane. But… I'm a doctor. Now, I believe a doctor and his patient are a team, and Delenn, right now, you are my patient… but this is a pretty unique situation, and so it's going to take more than just you and me. Starting right now, the four of us are a team, and our common goal is to bring that little boy into the world safe and sound. We're gonna stay calm, and we're gonna work together, and God willing, we'll all be telling one heck of a story in a couple of days. A story with a good ending," he added. Having said his piece, the doctor nodded and settled back in a chair. "John, you might as well get comfortable, too. It's going to be a long night."


	4. Chapter 4: D Minus 9 Hours

Chapter 4 – D-Minus 9 Hours

"_Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." – Lao Tzu_

John had done a great deal of thinking in the last three hours. He had been watching Delenn endure her contractions, each one seemingly bigger and stronger than the one that came before, and it had led him to one single, solitary belief: Delenn was not the strongest woman he'd ever known.

She was the strongest _person_ he'd ever known.

Maybe he was biased. Maybe it was because he loved her; maybe it was because every time she cried out in pain, his muscles tensed as if to suffer her contractions with her; maybe it was because, as she often said, they were old souls – finding each other time and again across countless generations, so linked with one another that they felt each other's pain and knew each other's thoughts. But he knew as Stephen confirmed regular contractions at six minutes apart that she was facing this challenge the way she always did, with a strength of body and of soul that John couldn't fathom existed in any human he'd ever met – not even himself. This situation was testament to that; she was lonely and afraid, but she remained focused on the ultimate goal. She cried out with the pain, but she was still his Delenn, still composed in the breaks between contractions, remaining, somehow, calmer than the three men who stood watch over her. She accepted the contractions as they came as she had always accepted pain when it was necessary –without reservation, without asking that it be taken from her or relying on someone else to bear the burden of it.

Lathann came forward after each contraction and wiped Delenn's brow, fed her ice chips at Dr. Franklin's suggestion, rubbed her aching muscles… anything she needed, without question. John's heart literally ached with his desire to be the one performing these tasks, to demonstrate, in some small way, his love and adoration for her. Instead he felt isolated, stranded. He began to pace and rub at his goatee, as though the physical movement of wearing a hole in the floor might somehow bring him a few footsteps closer to his wife.

"She has passed into the _core'na_." John momentarily halted his pace dead center in front of the com screen at Lathann's quiet observation. His Adrenato was still pretty shaky, but in preparation for this event, he'd done a fair amount of research into Minbari birthing terms and rituals, and so this term resonated across the emotional center of his brain. Her water had broken. There was no turning back now.

**

* * *

**Delenn had lost all count of her contractions and how much time came between them. As far as she was concerned, they were coming in a constant, unrelenting rhythm. In that respect, she was glad for Dr. Franklin's professionalism and his stopwatch. In a lull in the pain, she became vaguely aware of Lathann's presence as he leaned over her and used a cool, damp cloth to mop her face.

"How far are we from home, Lathann?" she asked.

The Ranger marveled at Delenn's calmness. He was young enough, naïve enough, to have never known true pain himself – physically or emotionally. But he had taken a pledge – _we live for The One, we would die for The One._ It went without saying that this pledge encompassed anything that came between life and death, and for Lathann, that meant he was about to deliver The One's child into the world. He silently vowed he would face this task with honor and without fear, as he would any mission he had embarked on thus far and any he would face in the future. "Just less than eight hours," he replied now. He noticed her hand stretched out in his direction, and instinctively, he took it.

Delenn smiled her thanks at him and squeezed his hand gently. Then she said very quietly in Adrenato – and Lathann knew she was making every effort to make sure Dr. Franklin and the president could not hear it – "You spoke with Lennier. Do you think this was a fool's mission?"

"No, Entil'zha." Lathann shook his head vehemently, even though her eyes were closed and she could not see it. He squeezed her hand more firmly in reassurance. "He called to you for help. All life is sacred, even that of those who have wronged us. And had we not come to Lennier's aid, he likely would have met his death. The malfunction of his ship aside, this part of space is no longer safe for races from Alliance worlds."

"But… Lennier knows that." Delenn's brow creased as she tried to work out the logic. Her mind was a jumble from the events of the past few hours, let alone the past few days. "And while he is many things, 'foolish' is not one of them. Did he tell you what he was doing so close to Centauri Prime in the first place?"

"Yes. He came out of hyperspace when he detected the engine problem. Despite where he was, he knew there was better chance of rescue in normal space."

A wave of guilt washed over her. How could she have thought, even for a second, that Lennier had lured her out here with impure motives? She felt tears in her eyes and allowed them to fall; Lathann gripped her hand tighter, mistaking them for tears of pain. "Another contraction?" He asked.

"No. Soon, though." She sighed and looked at the Com screen monitor. "John?" She asked, and on his half of the screen, Delenn watched her husband rise to his feet. He had sat down some time ago, after Dr. Franklin kindly suggested that John's pacing was counterproductive to the process and that he should attempt to relax, for the good of himself and his wife.

"Yes?"

"You should eat something."

It made Delenn smile the way he laughed at her suggestion. "You shouldn't worry about me."

"When you meet our son, I do not want you to be delirious from starvation."

"I'm already delirious," he replied softly. "With joy."

"You're not angry, then?"

"With you? Delenn… we covered this. This is one of the happiest days of my life, and… despite the creative method by which we're accomplishing it, I am _so glad_ that I could share it with you. I'm about to be a father… and more than that – I have the honor and privilege to be the father of _your_ son. How could I be angry with you when I love you so much?"

The corners of her mouth turned up, but it was an empty smile. That wasn't entirely what she'd meant. "Are you angry with Lennier?"

John opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. Was he? _Your mother has taken a ship out to rescue someone who… someone whose jealousy nearly cost me my life._ He'd put these words on record for his son just three hours before. But he'd said something else, too: _One thing I don't want you to learn from me is how to hold a grudge. I want you to look to your mother instead, and learn a depth of forgiveness that is beyond human._ Forgiveness… "No," he said finally.

She nodded at his reply in the instant before her body was overtaken by another contraction, and John reached out with one hand. Her eyes remained open this time, locked with his, their souls bared to one another in the intensity of the moment. He felt her pain, and she felt it somewhat less this time, as though he was helping to carry it. It was joyous; she felt more complete than she had since her labor began. She felt, for the smallest of moments, that he was there with her.

The pain passed again, and Delenn was vaguely aware as Dr. Franklin instructed Lathann how to check the progress of her dilation. Her eyes never left John's as the Ranger went about this task. She had a fleeting thought that this was most undignified, but then it was gone, and there was only the two of them, just her and her John. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you."


	5. Chapter 5: D Minus 5 Hours

Chapter 5 – D-Minus 5 hours

"_I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection." – Sigmund Freud_

Delenn was uncertain about a lot of things surrounding this mission. She was uncertain if she'd said the right things to Lennier. She was uncertain whether she would deliver this baby in hyperspace, or normal space, or on the ground on Minbar with John at her side. She was uncertain, despite Lathann's reassurance, whether she should have gone in the first place – and whether or not she was a fool for not taking better precautions in case just such an event as this came to pass. But there were two things of which she was not uncertain: She loved John and was proud to be bearing his son; and she was never, _ever_ doing anything like this _ever_ again.

"You don't mean that," John reasoned when she said this out loud.

"I am Minbari. We do not say things we do not mean."

"You're just in a lot of pain. Once it's over, once you hold him and see how much he looks like you and me… I bet you'll be itching to fill the house with copies of him."

"Fine," she retorted, raising her eyebrows at him, "You can give birth to the rest."

Stephen couldn't help it – he laughed at this exchange, and it earned him a glare from Delenn and a clenched-jaw shake of the head from John. The doctor coughed to cover it up and cleared his throat. "At last measurement, Delenn, you were at eight centimeters. If you keep progressing at this rate, you'll be ready to push in another three hours or so."

"I won't." The response was quick, as though she'd been practicing it for some time.

"What do you mean you _won't_?" John asked, hands coming to rest on his hips.

"I won't push," she clarified. "Not until we are home." She was giving them a face that said there was no room for argument… except there was, and everyone else seemed to know that.

"That's not the way childbirth works, Delenn. I'm sorry," Dr. Franklin told her. "When that baby's ready, you'll push." The determined expression on her face didn't change, and Franklin sighed. "OK… look… we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, all right? Meanwhile, while we've still got some time, I'm going to get in touch with your doctors on Minbar. I'll fill them in on what's been happening and have them meet you at the landing pad. John?"

"Hmm?"

"Reason with her."

As the doctor departed, Delenn gave her husband a challenging glare. "Go ahead," she said nonchalantly. Then the dagger, her voice dropping to a tone to match the glare – "Reason with me."

John closed his eyes and took several deep breaths in and out. "Delenn…" he began, not really sure where he was going with it.

"I am not a child," she continued. "I understand the circumstances. I understand what is going on, and I am telling you – I will not push, not until we are home. I am not asking for your opinion."

For a long moment, John was silent. When he did speak, his tone was neutral and his eyes spoke volumes of concern. "Why?"

"Because you deserve to be there," she replied. "It's your right, and I won't take that from you."

"Well, I appreciate that, I really do." He gave her the smallest of smiles before shaking his head. "But you're the one who told me the universe puts us in places where we can learn – that they may not be easy places, but wherever we are, it's the right place, and the right time. So… there must be a reason you're there and I'm not, right?" Her expression was response enough. "Hey. Don't cry."

"When did you become so wise?" She sniffled and Lathann appeared, handing her a tissue.

"It started when I met you. Maybe someday, if you keep talking to me like that, I'll catch up to my teacher."

"John…"

"Shhh." He inclined his head slightly, eyes bright with fresh tears. How many times in the last several hours had he been on the brink? He'd lost count. "I'm so proud of you, Delenn. And what I want… is to have you and our son home safely, even if that means he's already been born by the time you touch down in Tuzanor. I promise I will be right there on the landing pad. I'll be the first face you see."

"I'm scared."

John nodded. "I know. Me too. But… we have to put on our brave faces right now. We've been in tougher spots than this. We always make it through. We'll make it through this, too… and one way or another… we'll be together again soon. Plus one," he added, and the pride was evident in his voice.

"We have been in better spots than this, too. I must say, I much prefer those."

Again, a nod. "Remember the night we made him?" He said softly, sweetly, stepping closer to the monitor at the memory. Like everything that had happened onboard Babylon 5, it seemed so long ago, as if from a different lifetime entirely.

"That was _so_ much better," she replied. "You were…" Whatever she was going to say was cut short as her face contorted in pain. She seemed to realize Lathann's presence then, as though she had forgotten he was there for the last several minutes during her quiet conversation with John. Now, though, she reached out her hand, and he took it, looking first at Delenn, and then at the Com screen, meeting John's gaze. He didn't say a word, but it struck John hard and fast that the look in Lathann's eyes was something he had never, even in the early days, seen from Lennier – reverence and respect, not just because he was the one giving the orders, because it was infinitely clear that John was _not_ in charge of this situation, but directed at John as a _person_, because Lathann felt he truly deserved it.

When the ship docked, John silently vowed he would thank the young man properly for his assistance, for being there for his wife. While Lennier would have performed the same tasks in the same manner, John was fairly certain they would never, could never – even if what had happened, _hadn't_ happened – have shared a look like the one that had just passed between Lathann and himself.

It was funny – John had known since it began that when this adventure was over, they'd walk away changed, for sure – no one welcomes their child into the world, no matter the circumstance, and doesn't feel changed by it. But he was beginning to feel changed on a plane he hadn't expected, in the way he'd admitted forgiveness for Lennier, and found that he really did finally mean it; in the respect he felt emanating from Lathann; in the pride he felt toward Delenn. Maybe this was the way it was for every man whose life was about to change… he had a fleeting thought that he'd have to remember to ask his father.

When had the sun risen? He wasn't sure. He'd missed the sunrise. I _never see the sun rise on Minbar_, he thought absently. Maybe someday… maybe someday I'll watch it… with my boy.

_My boy… I can't wait to meet you. I'm sorry I'm not there, but I promise… I'll be the first face you see when you land. I'll be the first pair of arms to hold you. I'll keep you safe from everything about this universe that doesn't make sense and isn't fair. I love you so much…_

Dr. Franklin's return brought John out of his reverie. "A full medical team will meet you at the landing pad in just under five hours," the doctor imparted. "Meanwhile, Lathann, I… I'm going to ask you to round up a few things in preparation… for delivery."


	6. Chapter 6: D Minus 90 Minutes

Chapter 6 – D-Minus 1.5 hours

"_The worst pain a man can suffer: To have insight into much and power over nothing." – Hedrodotus_

Something was wrong. That much was obvious. Exactly what was wrong, no one could tell, but something was _definitely_ wrong. Despite her earlier insistence that she would not do so, Delenn had reached full dilation and had started to push. That was almost an hour ago, and they seemed no closer to the delivery of a healthy baby than they had been when she'd begun. Dr. Franklin was trying not to express, in so many words, that this was not going according to plan – but John and Delenn both knew better. They'd had enough interaction with the doctor to know the face he put on when things were going well… and the expression he tried to hide behind when they weren't.

"Delenn… how are you doing?" The doctor asked now.

"So tired," she admitted. She opened her eyes slightly. "John," she said, and there was the smallest hint of a smile in her voice, "In all of the times… we talked about having children… you never warned me… how much work this part would be."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right…" Her tone was thready, as though she was teetering on the edge of consciousness. "I'd do it… all again… for you. John?"

"I'm right here, Delenn."

"It hurts." Her voice was weaker still, but he heard her.

"I know." He nodded.

The other two members of their team seemed to fade into the background, and for awhile, husband and wife saw only each other. Their eyes spoke volumes of what they could not put into words.

Dr. Franklin's voice entered the conversation then, and in a reserved tone meant to mask the panic he felt rising in his gut, he instructed Lathann to feel for the head. "I don't think she can take much more," the doctor admitted. "If you can feel the head… I'm going to walk you through extraction."

There was a long, awkward moment where the Ranger, with all the professionalism of a physician several times his age, proceeded with the given task. Delenn was the only one who could see his face as his expression changed from determined… to confused… to worried. The expression of fear set itself in his features for the first time in hours. Delenn couldn't help but reflect it in her own features as they shared a long look, and then Lathann turned around to face the Com screen.

"Can you feel the head?" The doctor asked now.

"…No, doctor."

"What… do you feel?" John asked, a slow tingle of horror working its way up his spine.

Lathann was silent for a moment. He looked back at Delenn, then at the two human men on the Com screen. "An arm," he said finally.

"What does that mean?" John gave up any pretense of suppressing the panic in his voice.

"It means… the baby is in a transverse position. That's why she hasn't been able to push him out." Taking into account the blank look on John's face, Stephen brought his arm up as a visual aid. "This," he said, angling his right arm downward, hand in a fist, "Is optimum birthing position – head down. This," he continued, swinging the arm up so that his elbow now pointed toward the floor, "Is breech position – feet first. Harder on the mother, but it's still entirely possible to give birth this way. Your son… is positioned like this." Stephen brought his forearm level with the floor and paused for a long moment. He watched John's face break as understanding settled in. "He can't be born that way."

John swallowed several times, clenched and unclenched his jaw, and closed his eyes against the hopelessness and fear he felt settling over him once again. He had been running on adrenaline, his heart soaring as he waited with bated breath the arrival of his son… and now his emotions plummeted like a brick. "So… what do we do? How do we fix this?"

"Under normal circumstances, a Cesarean would be performed."

"But these are _not_ normal circumstances. Everyone involved knows that. So what do _we_ do?" He asked again.

"You're going to get your wish, Delenn. I don't want you to push anymore. Doing so… would only exhaust you further, and could do damage to the baby. You're close enough to home… I'm sorry, but I… Look, as soon as you land, they'll do a Cesarean. Meanwhile… I…" He wouldn't say it, but the unsaid truth was apparent. This joyous event had just become a nightmare. Delenn's life, and the baby's life, hung precariously in the balance.

Delenn watched as John approached the monitor on his end, and then she saw his fingers eclipse part of his half of the screen. It took a moment, but then Delenn realized – he was reaching out to touch her image, as though she might feel it. As his hand pulled back from the screen and she saw the helpless look on his face, she instinctively smiled back and reached up to touch her own cheek with an open palm. John nodded at their silent understanding.

"If you'll… excuse me for a moment. I'll be right back, I promise. Don't go anywhere." John's tone didn't carry the joke as he turned quickly and exited the room.

**

* * *

**Ranger Tannier had learned many things in the six months he'd been a house guard for the First Couple of the Interstellar Alliance. Some of those things were tiny tidbits and quirks that he supposed others might know: The president had an orange every day with breakfast, even though he had to pay quite a hefty price to have them shipped to Minbar ("Someday, Ranger Tannier, I think I'll plant my own little grove. But that would mean I'd need more than a few hours free at a time," he'd said once); Entil'zha Delenn meditated every evening from precisely 1900 to 1945 hours, during which time she was not to be disturbed ("Unless the universe is imploding upon itself, Anla'shok Tannier") and they both read Universe Today, every day - he with an expanded Earth sports section and she with Eye on Minbari discretely inserted. President Sheridan could _not_ cook, despite his best efforts; Entil'zha Delenn generally preferred to do her own housework but seemed to have an aversion to cleaning the bathroom, and for that, they hired help.

But there were other things Tannier had learned, things he suspected only he and the other house guards pondered after they left their post at the end of a shift: President Sheridan had night terrors – horrible ones that woke him violently in the middle of the night and would keep him awake for several hours afterward. Entil'zha Delenn slept with all the lights on in their home when the president was away on business. There was The Signal – a soft blue candle lit in a conspicuous but decorative place on their coffee table – instituted by the president after one of Tannier's comrades had the embarrassing misfortune to elect to check on strange sounds emanating from inside the home and had stumbled upon the couple in the throes of the _Heefa_.

And then there was the crying.

There were unspoken rules about crying. President John Sheridan did not cry. Even if he did, it was understood that he didn't. It wasn't that he was emotionless – on the contrary. He had a depth of passion for Delenn that could not be put into words, but was always visible through his actions, always visible on his face. But he was a soldier at his heart, strong and stoic, and in the face of adversity, he fought back – he did not cry. Which was why, as Tannier entered the presidential suite to do his initial security sweep as he came back on duty, he was shocked to hear the sound of soft, barely audible sobs coming from within the home.

He followed the sound to the room which was to be the nursery and found President Sheridan there, seated on the floor, his knees pulled up and his back against the wall. He had his elbows resting on his knees and his head resting in his hands, and he was most definitely, very quietly, crying. Tannier knew he hadn't been seen; he could leave, let the president have is privacy… but there was something about the situation that said his boss didn't need privacy – he needed a friend.

"Mr. President?"

Sheridan wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand but kept his gaze focused on the far wall as he spoke, his tone measured. "Ranger Tannier. I thought your shift would have ended by now."

"My shift ended last night. I have since gone home to rest and returned to begin another. But I… you…" It was clear the human before him hadn't slept at all. Tannier had learned of Delenn's labor before he went off duty, and the Ranger who had stood guard through the night had told Tannier of the bomb that had been dropped just before this shift change. Tannier wasn't sure how to proceed. Did he confront the president about his tears? Did he offer friendship? Did he…

"Have you ever heard the story about… about the knife she took for me?" John looked up now, making eye contact with Tannier but remaining rooted where he sat. Tannier shook his head slowly. "It was back on Babylon 5. We were… I wouldn't even say we were courting at the time. It happened so quickly, I couldn't move to stop it… and then she was in my arms, bleeding, maybe dying, and I… I felt so helpless. But," he continued, looking away from Tannier again to stare at a blank spot on the opposite wall, "Only for a moment. Then I took off after the guy who did it and beat him to a pulp, because I could, because it seemed right, because _damn it_, if she died…" His voice trailed off. He paused for a moment before continuing. "I felt so helpless," he repeated at last, making eye contact with the Ranger once more, "But I could do something. I could arrest—detain—hit, kick—kill—the ones who had hurt her. But now I… I feel like this is somehow my fault, and it kills me to see her in so much pain, to be helpless to stop it, and to not even be able to be there, to hold her hand, to comfort her. It just kills me."

"But you are there." The words were out of Tannier's mouth before he could stop them. The shocked look on President Sheridan's face told him maybe he should not have spoken so frankly, but then the other man's eyes softened and a look of understanding seemed to dawn. Tannier continued, feeling emboldened by the president's facial expression. "Except right now, of course. Right now, you're in here, where she cannot see or hear you." Tannier shrugged. "I suppose, even now, you are there with her – in her heart."

John hadn't moved – he was still seated against the wall, knees bent, but his arms now fell loosely over his bent knees and he was looking up at Tannier, feeling completely dumbfounded. "You always talk like a fortune cookie?" He asked.

"Fortune cookie, sir?"

John shook his head and got to his feet. "Nevermind." He took a long look around the room. It had been empty when they'd first moved in, initially constructed as an office, but they'd wasted little time in converting it to a nursery. The final pieces of furniture had arrived while John was on Narn, and now the room was finished, ready for a child to occupy it. "Look, I uh… thank you."

"It is my honor to serve."

"Maybe but… I think you've just gone above and beyond the call of duty, Ranger Tannier."

The Ranger bowed slightly in humble acknowledgment of the compliment. "Would… that is. Mr. President. Would you like me to stay with you?"

Again, John simply stared at the young man before him. Humans could stand to benefit from a lesson in honor sometimes, he thought, even a lesson from one so young as Tannier or Lathann. "Thank you, Tannier. I think… I would like that very much."

Together, to face the final leg of this impossible journey, the two exited the nursery. John threw a final look over his shoulder into the room as he went, an unspoken prayer passing over his face.


	7. Chapter 7: D Minus 30 Minutes

Chapter 7 – D-Minus .5 Hours

"_The greater your capacity to love, the greater your capacity to feel the pain." – Jennifer Aniston_

Delenn had known pain before. She had suffered at the hands of Mr. Sebastian; she had endured the Starfire Wheel. This trumped both of those in an instant, and yet somehow, having come to terms with the situation, she was calmer now than she had been since the ordeal began. She concentrated on the sound of her own breathing, and everything else – Dr. Franklin's instructions, Lathann's movements around the room, the voices of other crew members who came in to offer prayers and well wishes – faded into the background until they were little more than a gentle hum. She was alone in a sea of uncertainty, kept afloat only by the pain as the child within her continued his fruitless efforts to free himself. Somewhere in the midst of it all, her mind jolted completely out of this reality as if to reject it entirely.

"_It will be several hours before your ship is repaired. It was you who called me here, and now that I am here, you _will_ talk to me." Delenn had abandoned all niceties when she found Lennier in the crew mess. Her tone was nothing less than directive – an order from Entil'zha to Anla'shok, wayward though he might be._

"_I have very little to say." Lennier was once again averting his gaze._

"_You have been gone for six months. You must have traveled far, seen much... Tell me of your journeys." She reached out to take his hands in hers, and although it seemed at first that he would resist her touch, he surrendered after a moment's pause and cautiously looked into her eyes. _

"_I have stayed well within the realm of known space," he replied. "I have visited the same worlds the Anla'shok have visited. On occasion, I have visited Babylon 5 to reminisce… to meditate on what was. On," he looked deeper into her eyes now, and she could not ignore the desire she saw there, "What might have been." Delenn had to look away then. His eyes burned into the back of her head. "Can I ask you a question?" He inquired, and she nodded, but did not look at him. "Does… your husband know that you are here?"_

_When she did not immediately respond, he waited her out for an answer. "No," she replied finally, quickly. This was not where she had wanted this conversation to go; it was not at all what she had envisioned happening when she was reunited with her former attaché. _

"_You chose not to tell him." This was not a question. It was a quiet, damning observation. "Was this for your sake? Or for mine?"_

"_Both, I suppose." There was a hint of emotion in her tone. She looked at him now. "And his."_

"_You knew he would be angry at your actions and at your decision. You chose not to tell him, Delenn," he repeated. "The reasons don't matter."_

Reality assaulted Delenn's senses. The smell, first – she recognized it as _harfura_. She must have been unconscious. But for how long? Then sounds, voices – Ranger Lathann, and Dr. Franklin, and John… her sweet, wonderful John. She did not hear Lennier's voice, and that troubled her. As she blinked her eyes open, she reached out to Ranger Lathann. "Lennier?" she asked.

The young Minbari seemed startled. "No, Entil'zha. Lennier is gone again, to the stars."

But Delenn's mind was foggy, past and present and dream and reality blurring together in one surreal emotion. "I do not regret… coming to your aid. Above all, you must know this. You may not be ready to come home, but I… was ready… to hear what you said." She reached out her hand, and Lathann took it, though he shared a look of deep concern with the other onlookers. "I hope… you were ready to hear… what I had to say. Even if you are not ready… to accept it."

Lathann was utterly uncertain of what to say or do. His look of concern turned to one of complete confusion, and he said nothing. After a long moment, Delenn licked her lips and continued. "John is a good man." Her voice was shaky, barely above a whisper. She did not cry out, but she grasped Lathann's hand in both of hers as her face contorted in pain. "I love him. I will never love another quite like this. I'm sorry, Lennier." Lathann again remained silent, lips drawn into a tight line as he looked about frantically. She was delirious – caught between what should have happened and what was happening instead. "Please. Tell me you understand."

From their faraway positions, both Dr. Franklin and President Sheridan appeared to be silently urging him on. "I understand," he whispered, closing his eyes in a silent prayer for forgiveness. This lie was necessary, he told himself. For Delenn's honor, and for Lennier's.

Delenn closed her eyes and tears of acceptance began to flow. She held tighter to the hand she clenched. Assured at the presence of her former attaché, who had promised to be by her side through all things, Delenn allowed unconsciousness to swallow her again.

"_Yes, they do." She spat the words out at him. Lennier reeled back a bit – he had pushed too far. Her grey eyes were ablaze with anger. "You must have known that if I came to rescue you, we would have a conversation. You must have known we would speak. Why do you seem as though you were not prepared for it?"_

"_I have had six months to meditate on my mistake. I have had six months to do penance, to pray, to ask for forgiveness. To look to the universe for wisdom; to learn. I thought I was ready. It was only when I entered your quarters to see you… as you are… that I knew I was wrong. It may be true as the humans say that time heals all wounds, but in regard to this matter, I'm afraid, time… needs more time."_

Not for me, _she thought. _For you._ "Lennier. I forgave you long ago."_

"_Maybe so. But he… and I… do not see the world in the same way that you do."_

"_John has forgiven you."_

"_Because you have asked him to. Not because he truly feels forgiveness in his heart. And," Lennier licked his lips and turned his head away momentarily, but looked back to hold her gaze as he bit out the words, "It is perhaps true that he should not be so quick to forgive when he does not know for certain that I would not repeat my actions, given another opportunity."_

_She gasped and pulled back slightly, one hand coming up to cover her mouth. "Lennier…"_

"_He is not right for you, Delenn. This union… is a mistake. This is the conclusion I have come to in the last six months. I feel remorse because I have brought you pain, and for that, I am truly sorry. I have meditated, and I have prayed, and I have spent a great deal of time reflecting – you and he were part and parcel to prophecy, but when that prophecy was fulfilled, I believe you chose the wrong path." The words flowed in an unrelenting, painful rhythm. As if to rise up in opposition to Lennier's dialogue, Delenn felt the life within her turn, kick, punch… life created from this union which Lennier, who had been at her side for five years, who had stayed with her through trial and fire and judgment and rejection and persecution, who had taken her hand and said she was never alone – did not support._

"_I believe there is yet prophecy to be fulfilled," she returned, emotion evident in her tone. "This child will carry on the prophecy and will continue the union of the two halves of our souls, into the next generation. Minbari and Humans are interdependent upon each other, Lennier, you must understand that. Both of our races need one another in order to survive. Our son is the first, but there _will be others_. I thought you understood that. If you can no longer see it, then perhaps you have not learned everything you need to learn. Perhaps it is not yet time for you to return home after all." She stood then, ready to exit. Anger radiated in her eyes, shot out at him like flame-tipped arrows that hit him at his core and sent a shock of pain through his chest._

"_Delenn—"_

"_I am Entil'zha," she addressed him now, and though he was taller and stronger than she, he felt diminutive in her presence. "If you wish to continue in the Anla'shok, you must find a way to reconcile what you feel with what you believe. It appears you have not yet done so in a way that will allow you to serve with honor. The Rangers take a pledge to live and die for The One. But Anla'shok Na is an office, not a person. Someday, John will occupy it, and I suspect you cannot say with any certainty that you would keep this pledge under his command." Lennier's silence was all the reply she needed. "Then you are right that you are not ready to return. I will pray for your safety and I will pray that you will reconcile yourself to a higher level of enlightenment soon. I have missed you, Lennier. And yet here you are in my presence and I find… I miss you still. We will meet again, and when we do… I hope… that it can end on better terms than this. Until then." Unwilling to use the human word, that awful word that to her meant a door was forever closed, this was all she said in parting. She turned again to exit the room, and this time, he didn't stop her. Silent tears of loss tracked down both their faces. She was barely within earshot to hear his whisper. _

"_Goodbye."_

**

* * *

**

"I have to get going, Stephen. Thank you… so much."

"You'll let me know how this turns out?"

"As soon as it does," John responded. He nodded firmly at his friend.

"Good luck, John."

John didn't respond; he didn't know how to. This wasn't about his luck. None of this, not a single part of it, was up to him. He simply clicked off the view screen and turned to Ranger Tannier, who hadn't left his side for the last hour. "Thank you, too."

"It is my honor—"

"I'm not thanking you for doing your duty. I'm thanking you… for your friendship. For your compassion. For all that you've done today for me as a person." John looked away and began to peter about the room. He was looking for something… there. His hand landed on the ceremonial receiving blanket he'd been in search of when he'd wandered into the nursery earlier. It was hand-woven from a rare Minbari fabric, completed by a single Worker Caste seamstress who blessed it and followed rigid traditions that included fasting and tears and sleepless nights, in order to be pure for the perfect child it would surround today. John grasped the soft blue cloth like a lifeline. He'd insisted on blue – this was an Earth custom, he'd told the seamstress, and she had abided his wishes. "I'd like you to come with me." John didn't have many friends on Minbar. He had coworkers, aides, advisors, subordinates, and, of course, the Rangers, who revered his command… but friends… despite the passage of years, many Minbari of John's generation still regarded him as Starkiller and resented his presence on their world. He was hoping he wasn't wrong in feeling that the smallest of bonds was forming with Tannier.

"Of course."

"Thank you," John repeated, and the two men exited the Sheridan home, bound for the landing pad and whatever might await them there.


	8. Chapter 8: Zero Hour

Chapter 8 – Zero Hour

"_The time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son." – Luke 2:6-7_

White Star 7 was already on the ground and its crew disembarking – but not straying far, as they mulled about on the landing pad – when John and Tannier arrived. John broke into a run as he approached the ship, barely aware of the tears that now flowed freely, publicly, down his face. He entered the White Star, Tannier at his heels, and looked around franticly. "Delenn?" He called. There was no response, but Tannier was grabbing his elbow and gently guiding him in one direction. Voices… there were definitely voices. John focused on those voices, focused on moving toward them. They were speaking fluent Minbari, in a dialect John didn't recognize, and several voices were speaking at once so that he couldn't isolate any individual's words. Delenn's voice was noticeably absent, and John was white as a sheet as he came upon the scene – the voices he had heard were doctors, and they surrounded Delenn's still form. Their backs were to John, but he could tell they were working quickly, efficiently – to free his child.

His eyes landed on Lathann, who was kneeling in a corner of the room, two candles lit in front of him as he chanted a prayer. "It's a Minbari birthing prayer," Tannier explained without prompting. John glanced briefly at the Ranger who stood at his side. "Traditionally it is recited by the attending physician and repeated by any caste members who have gathered to observe the birth. In your language, it translates very roughly… 'Peace and beauty bring this little one to life. Beauty give him breath, and peace protect he who is… a child of Valen.'" Tannier paused, then said hesitantly, "There is a counterpart to the prayer… recited by the father. He says it in the final stages of labor… and again when he holds his child for the first time."

"The _Nafak'zha_," Sheridan offered with a sharp nod. He used his height advantage to see over the doctors' heads. There was a lot of blood… he tried very hard not to fixate on that, and instead his eyes focused intently on Delenn's face. _Open your eyes, Beautiful. Please… open your eyes._ "Birth of the Future."

Tannier was dumbstruck. He'd been very young when this man who stood next to him had earned the nickname Starkiller. _How could those stories be true?_ He wondered now. This man was not a cold-blooded killer; he was not a coward, and he was certainly not dishonorable. He was… fragile, as though his heart was made of glass, and this moment threatened to shatter it into a million pieces. He was an ordinary man who was about to become a father under the most extraordinary of circumstances. And he had cared enough, long before this day, to research the rites and rituals of Minbari birthing practices.

"I've practiced… waiting for this day," Sheridan said now. "I meant for it to be a surprise for her. I knew she'd want it."

"Now… would be the time."

John looked away from his wife and made eye contact with Tannier. Lathann finished his prayer and looked up, and then as if in understanding, stood and offered his place to John.

John took a moment to compose his thoughts. Then he moved to the place where Lathann had been praying and unfolded the blanket he held, taking a moment to smooth out any bumps before he dropped to his knees upon it. The words flowed from his lips, and all who could hear him were amazed – his command of the prayer was perfect, unaccented, a rhythm like gentle rain. Three times… once for himself, once for Delenn, and once for the child. But then something unexpected… in English, he repeated his words. "My precious child… Valen give you strength. It will be my honor to guide you, to teach you, to protect you. I promise you all my love, and I welcome you… a Child of Valen." The final word was still dying on his lips, his eyes still closed, as a long, sharp cry echoed through the room. It took John just a moment to process this alien sound… and then the tears began again… this sound of his son's first cry.

He stood, taking quick note of the looks of amazement that graced the faces of Lathann and Tannier. Were they directed at the child? Or at him? He did not know. At the moment, he did not care. They moved aside and John stepped forward for a first glimpse of his little boy.

He was bloody… everything seemed bloody. Delenn's body was limp, and John was terrified… but the doctors were still working, moving over her to close the inscision in her abdomen from which they had pulled the baby. "My wife?" He asked one of the doctors.

"Mr. President… you should… be with your son."

"How is my wife?" His tone was more demanding this time, hands clutched into fists, his right hand still holding the blue blanket.

"We are doing all we can for her. It will be easier… if you do not watch." As if to offer a distraction, the doctor accepted the squirming, naked child from another who had been cleaning him, whispered a blessing in the unfamiliar dialect, and then handed him to John.

John tore his eyes from Delenn's still form and focused instead on the baby. He wrapped him carefully in the blanket, reverently counted fingers and toes, touched the smooth, unblemished skin of his cheeks and brow and hands and arms… "You're perfect," he whispered. "Just… perfect…" The tears hadn't stopped. John couldn't remember crying this much in a very long time, but he couldn't seem to stop it.

Remembering his place, John repeated the prayer again – in Adrenato, and then again in English. And then he added the words he'd been dying to say aloud for hours, for days, for months – ever since they had learned the child would be a boy. "You…" he ran a finger down the side of the child's tiny face… "Will be known as David John. I humbly honor you as best I can, with the names of your father, and of your father's father." The ritual was complete, but he continued his explanation, as if the child might understand. "It's a tradition practiced among both our people," he said, "to pass down the name of an honored friend or relative. You're a miraculous bridge between two worlds… there's no other name for you." He pressed a single kiss to the soft skin of David's forehead and pulled him a bit closer.

"Mr. President?"

John looked up. One of the doctors had called him, and he focused on the Minbari man who stepped away from the others. "How is Delenn?"

"The nature of the delivery was quite a strain on her system, but she is strong. She will recover, given time. We're making preparations now to move her to a medical facility where we can better care for her."

"I…" John felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you. Can I… see her?"

"As you wish." The doctors moved aside. They had cleaned her up a bit, but there was still evidence that Delenn had been the battlefield of a gory conflict. Life and death had been decided here… and life, it seemed, had prevailed.

Balancing David protectively in the crook of his left arm, John reached out his right hand and took hold of Delenn's left. His thumb ran briefly over her wedding band. "I know you can't hear me," he said, "but we have a beautiful son. When you wake up… he'll be as anxious to meet you as you have been to meet him. But you take your time. You've been through enough. We'll be here. I promise." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, and he could swear, just for a moment, that a smile graced her features.

**

* * *

**

"_ISN has received word that David John Sheridan, son of Interstellar Alliance President John Sheridan and First Lady Delenn, was born today in Tuzanor on the Minbari homeworld. While the exact circumstances of the birth are not known, we have been informed by sources close to the couple that the birth was a difficult one, ending in an emergency C-Section under highly unusual circumstances. Our thoughts and prayers go out to Delenn for a quick recovery, along with our congratulations to this truly one-of-a-kind couple. In other news, three members of the PsiCorps were killed today in an explosion in Solis Planum on Mars. While the bomb could not be traced, the words 'Remember Byron' were found painted on a wall at the scene…"_

"Off." Lennier sighed into the dark confines of his ship. A war was coming. Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe not even this year, but it was coming. When it arrived, he knew that the humans he had once considered his friends and allies would once again be thrust into the middle of it, whether by choice or mandate, and he vowed that by that time, he would reconcile himself to fight alongside them.

This would be the means by which he would make amends to Delenn. And…to… John. He allowed himself to consider the name, rolled it around in his mind like a tiny ball built of an unfamiliar compound. He had failed this time, but they would meet again, and he would get another chance, he was sure of it.

What part would the child play? Lennier, like most Minbari, did not believe in coincidences. These two news reports had run back-to-back for a reason, even if it was known only to the universe for now. It would reveal itself in time.

_David John Sheridan._ The name resonated within him. For now, he was a symbol of peace, his mother and father both pivotal figures in a war whose wounds were still fresh for some on both sides. He was a symbol of change. He was… a Child of Valen, Lennier knew, carrying Valen's – Sinclair's – DNA, completing a tapestry that had remained an open circle for over 1,000 years. Delenn's words had struck him, but she was right, and he knew that, in his heart. He knew it in the same way that he had known she was destined for another, for a human… for the Starkiller.

For… John.

Knowing and accepting were two very different things.

_He is the first, but there _will be_ others._

He wasn't ready yet… but soon. His heart, for now, was still too burdened; his soul too fragile. _Time needs more time_, he'd told Delenn. "I need more time," he whispered now, confessing only to himself and to the empty blackness of space. Then, louder, "Ship. Set course for Babylon 5."

"Confirmed."

He'd been there more times in the past six months than he had admitted to Delenn. For some reason, he was certain that the answer lie there. It seemed everyone else had found out who they were onboard the station… Lennier had not, and he reasoned that was why he continued to be drawn there. He was still searching for the epiphany that would resolve his troubled soul, bring him to a higher level of enlightenment, and allow him to reconcile the truth as it was. He could feel the pieces coming together, slowly, surely… but this encounter had been a huge setback.

He hadn't known about the baby, and when he saw her… it was a proverbial slap in the face. She was right, there were things he had been prepared to say to her, confessions, lamentations, truths… all that had gone out the window when he saw her. He may have been ready to accept her union with Sheridan, but the undeniable evidence that the universe felt so strongly about this union that it was about to bless it with a child had torn open old wounds like ripping off a scab, renewing his pain. Now he had new truths to accept, and that seemed to erase every conclusion he'd come to previously with regard to this matter and set him back to square one. _Coward,_ a voice in his head accused, and he could not deny that. Now he would have to find a way to prove himself to her double-fold. In the war that was coming, he was certain such an opportunity would exist.


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue

"_Gratitude is the memory of the heart." – Jean Baptiste Massieu_

"In the Earth military, when a soldier goes above and beyond the call of duty, our tradition is to give commendations – medals, letters of thanks, a note in the soldier's file and increased credibility. I've been on both the giving and receiving end… it's a great honor to do either. But this is not the Earth military, and the two of you… are not human. This is not your tradition. I… asked Delenn, and she said that the Rangers… don't have a tradition like this one; that every duty is performed honorably, without the expectation of thanks or recognition. So. You'll have to forgive my human pride that I… can't let go so easily." John ceased his pacing in front of the two young Rangers and smiled at them. They stood at attention, and they reminded John very much of the very first time he had ever stood before a commanding officer to receive something other than disciplinary action. It was an awkward feeling, he knew. Inside you were bursting with pride, but on the outside, you had to continue to present the image of the soldier you had been which had earned you the right to stand there in the first place. He softened his tone and spoke from the heart. "Lathann," he began, "You… were there for my wife when no one else was. I am more than willing to forget the fact that you indulged her in going on this mission. She would've gone with or without you, and I don't doubt that your presence helped her keep her strength throughout the process. And," he went on, his voice softening even more, "At the end, what you said to her… she doesn't remember. She may never remember. But I sure will." He offered a deep, slow bow of respect.

Ranger Lathann blushed. John had noted in his interactions with Delenn and other Minbari that it was especially apparent when they were blushing, moreso than with a human, because their faces were naturally so pale. "It is not right for one in a position so high as yours to bow so deeply to me." But Lathann met John's eyes, and John could see the pride that beamed there.

"I know who you are, and who I am, and I understand your traditions. I stand by my actions." He offered a small bow of his head, then turned to Tannier, to whom he once again bowed deeply in reverence. "And you, Ranger Tannier."

Tannier snapped more stiffly to attention. "Yes, sir!"

John shook his head and laughed gently. "At ease?" He suggested, cocking an eyebrow, and Tannier dropped to a slightly more neutral stance. "You have come a long way from the young man I met on Babylon 5 last year. I've been on your world now, living among your people every day, for six months. I have… advisors and staff who… certainly revere me, certainly treat me with respect, but… what you did for me… what you said to me… I dare say that no Minbari has _ever_ reached out to me like that, and damn few of any other race, including my own. Thank you." John paused to gather his thoughts. "You are both wise beyond your years, and I am only sorry that my thanks… and, I hope, my friendship… are all I have to give in return."

"It is enough, Mr. President," Lathann said quietly. Tannier nodded in agreement.

"Can I ask…" John's gaze settled on Tannier as the young man spoke. "How is Entil'zha Delenn?"

John's smile broke any language barrier. "I'm on my way to see her now. You're both welcome to come. I think she has some things she'd like to say to you herself."

"I don't know that I can take much more." Tannier was smiling now. He inclined his head in curiosity. "Friends, Mr. President?"

Sheridan laughed again and clapped a hand on each of their shoulders. "For all that we have been through," he said, "You _both_ have earned the right to call me John." He ushered them out of the presidential home and into a waiting shuttle.

**

* * *

**

Ranger Tannier had never held a baby before. He had no siblings, and though other members of his clan had children, he'd never been invited to feel the warmth of a new life in his arms. It was a great honor among Minbari that the mother and father would relinquish their hold on a newborn to another… so as he accepted the tiny bundle from Presi—from John, Tannier was at first unsure of what to do. He was seated at the head of Entil'zha Delenn's bed, and she seemed to be watching him very carefully – but she didn't appear anxious or upset.

"He will not break, Tannier," she encouraged after a moment. "Hold him closer. Relax," she coaxed, and he looked at her hesitantly, but complied. David shifted slightly, and then seemed to mold himself against Tannier's chest, apparently finding the robes he wore and the muscle underneath to be quite a comfortable spot indeed. "There, you see? I think he likes you." She was smiling, and her voice was softer than that of the Entil'zha Tannier was accustomed to. He wondered briefly if this was a permanent change, or something that would fade with the exhaustion that still haunted her.

The past two days had been such a whirlwind of pride and honor, Tannier wasn't sure he could fit it all inside his heart. To his amazement, tears threatened, and then spilled over as he studied David's sleeping face.

"We cry when our hearts are so full that they cannot hold any more emotion," Delenn said now. She was still smiling, still studying Tannier and the child carefully. "There is no shame in it." She reached out to touch Tannier's forearm reassuringly, and he nodded in response.

Delenn's gaze shifted to the foot of her bed, where Lathann sat in a chair next to John, the two of them wrapped in a deep conversation about precisely how Delenn had talked Lathann into the mission. John's tone wasn't angry – more genuine curiosity, she noted, as she brought her eyes back to her child and Tannier, allowing the other two men to think she wasn't listening.

"I'm telling you, this is something you have to learn about women. Human, Minbari… doesn't matter. This incident is a great learning experience," John was saying now. He was watching Tannier and the child as well, but he was leaning forward, gesturing toward Lathann as he spoke, his eyes on his family but his attention clearly centered on the Ranger at his side. "Someday, you'll find one you'll want to give the world to. You'll let her do all kinds of crazy things because you love her, but you have to understand – across the universe, they are sneaky, calculating and manipulative, and you have to be careful, or—"

"That will be enough of that, John." Delenn didn't look away from Tannier and the child as she cut her husband off.

Lathann stifled laughter. "Also, they have good hearing?" He asked.

"Something like that." John folded his arms across his chest and kicked his feet out in front of him, looking guilty. After a moment, he gave a yawn and stretched his arms over his head before leaning over to whisper in Lathann's ear through clenched teeth, "We'll continue this discussion later." He stood then, and walked to stand at his wife's bedside. "It's getting late," he said, reaching down to rest a hand on her head. He stroked her hair gently, fingers coming to rest at the bottom of her bone crest before she finally tore her eyes from Tannier and David to look up at him. "You should rest."

Delenn grudgingly nodded agreement. Tannier handed the child back to his mother and stood, as did Lathann, while John sat down in the chair Tannier had vacated. "Before you go." Delenn settled David into the crook of her arm. She studied his features a moment before looking up at the two young Rangers who stood before her. "I know that John has spoken to both of you to express his thanks and mine. Now I would like to do the same." From her reclined position, Delenn offered a bow of her head to each of them. "Your actions – as well as your… discretion… with regard to those actions - have brought honor to the Anla'shok, to your castes, to your clans and to your families. I find as I look at you now that I am proud to walk on the path beside you, and I very much cannot wait to see the men you will become. John was right to offer you friendship… it is very much a human thing to do, and I join him in that offer. But Minbari have our own traditions." She looked around, first making eye contact with each of the two Rangers, and then with her husband, who nodded encouragingly. "_Su'zha_," she addressed them collectively. _Honored Ones._ "And may Valen go with you."

John fixated on the simple exchange. He had used far more words to bestow his thanks… and yet he felt that somehow, with far fewer words, Delenn had said more. This was all that was needed. The two men bowed and exited, leaving the family alone.

"They call him _Anla'shok Niall_," she mused as John pulled his chair as close as possible, both parents peering at the perfect face of their slumbering child. "The Little Ranger."

John chuckled softly, reaching out with his index finger to trace the ridges of David's nose and mouth. "Maybe he will be, someday. He's a fighter, after all. Just like his mother."

"And his father."

"Well, I wasn't going to mention that." Husband and wife looked toward one another instinctively then and were caught in each other's gaze, unable to look away from the love that was reflected back.

"They told me what you did for them," she said now, the fingers of her free hand playing across the soft skin of David's cheek. "I know that adjusting to life on Minbar has not always been easy for you, but you are truly an honorable man, John. Slowly, my people are realizing that. Today, I believe you have ensured that the next generation of Minbari will remember you with reverence."

"Maybe." John sighed lightly and his smile turned sad. "I just wish I'd been able to do something to prove it to Lennier. Maybe then…"

"It would not have mattered."

"You don't know that."

"I do." David began to fuss, and she shifted him from her arm to a vertical position against her chest.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened?"

"When I am ready. When the time is right. But right now… is not that time." She reached out a hand, and John took it firmly in both of his, lifting it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. "Now… is a time for us, for the future. Not for the past."

"Have I told you yet today…"

"Not before I tell you…" Her eyes were shining.

"How wise you are?"

"How wonderful you are."

"How beautiful you are?"

"How handsome you are."

"How much… I love you?" He leaned over, catching her lips with his, one of each of their hands balanced on David's back. Those fingers found each other and intertwined, completing the circle. _Three is sacred_… the thought flitted through John's mind, and as he broke the kiss and pulled back to look into Delenn's eyes, he knew she was thinking the same thing. _Three is sacred… as _we_ are now three_.

"And you may repeat it… as many times as you like." Her voice was barely a whisper as she settled back against the bed beneath her and closed her eyes, her body relaxing in surrender to much-needed sleep.

"I intend to." It was an old joke between them by now, this gentle verbal exchange… oftentimes it would crescendo to the most passionate of exchanges, but… not tonight. It was changed now, he knew as his hand brushed over the back of David's head, feeling for the first time the two barely noticeable nubs that would grow as he did, eventually forming a bone crest. "To both of you." Delenn was asleep now, joining their son in the world of dreams. "I love you," John whispered now, fingers trailing again over the baby's face. Then he settled back in his chair, leaning back as much as he was able, and closing his eyes. He was pretty tired, himself. The doctors had said Delenn and David could probably go home tomorrow… he'd need all his strength for that. "Goodnight."

_Fin._


End file.
